


Sticks and Snakes

by Penknife



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bloodplay, Crying, Erotic Electrostimulation, F/M, Forced to perform cunnilingus, Forced to rape victim to save them from a worse fate, Grandmaster makes Valkyrie noncon Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19466374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penknife/pseuds/Penknife
Summary: The Grandmaster wants Loki broken, but he's not good at breaking.





	Sticks and Snakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bereft_of_frogs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bereft_of_frogs/gifts).



“Here’s how it’s going to be,” Valkyrie says. She has Loki on his knees, yanking him back against her by the hair. Under other circumstances, it might be enjoyable. “I’m going to hurt you until the Grandmaster thinks you’ve learned a lesson, or else he’s going to kill you.”

“That’s harsh,” the Grandmaster says, leaning back in his chair on the dais above them. “I mean, roughly accurate, but still, harshly put.”

“I just want him to know the rules,” she says. “Otherwise he won’t learn.”

“Well, carry on, then,” the Grandmaster says.

“If this is supposed to be a punishment, I assure you, you’re missing the mark,” Loki says. “If what you want is for us to put on a show—”

The electric shock lances through him, a bright agony that knocks the breath out of him. He grits his teeth and tries to summon up some spell to free himself, but whatever drugs they’ve given him only make him dizzy when he tries. His hands are cuffed behind him, and he can't get them free no matter how he tries.

“No, no, it’s the first thing she said,” Grandmaster says. “I want her to hurt you until you’re sure you don’t want to do this again.”

Privately, he’s already certain of that. He tries to put on an expression of unconcern anyway. “I’d like to make it clear that I’m sorry—”

“Shut up,” Valkyrie snaps. She yanks his hair with one hand and slaps him across the face with the other.

“Is that the worst you can do?”

“No,” she says bluntly, and draws a knife. She presses the blade under his chin, but he’s not actually particularly worried that she’s going to cut his throat. That wouldn’t make a good show.

Instead she starts using the knife to cut his clothes off him. “I could just take those off,” he says, and she backhands him with the hand holding the knife. She hits hard — he supposes Valkyries do — and where the pommel hits his jaw, there’s a bright burst of pain followed by a throbbing ache. He can taste his own blood.

The sound of fabric tearing in her strong hands is somehow more ominous than the feel of the blade was. Then the blade stings just above his knee, and he reassesses that thought. She goes down on one knee and cuts him, a bright line of blood blossoming up his thigh.

He smiles, baring teeth. “That’s very personal.”

“Believe me, it isn’t,” she says. She slashes his other thigh more quickly, the cut deeper, trickling blood down his leg. Probably not fatal, or even lingeringly inconvenient, but it hurts, a bright insistent sting every time he shifts his weight. His fingers itch to reach for the blood, to work some enchantment with it, but he can’t even visualize what he'd do if his hands were free. That part of his mind is a drugged snake twisting crazily around itself.

He’s naked, now, and the Grandmaster is watching all this with interest. He strains to clothe himself in illusion. He’s never so naked that he can’t hide if he wants to. But he can’t hide this, the blood on his skin, Valkyrie’s hand wet with it when she reaches for his cock.

She gets him hard, and he forces himself to smile as if that’s what he wants. “Are you having fun?”

“Not yet, but now that you mention it,” Valkyrie says. She hauls him around to face her and spreads her legs, undoing the fastenings of her leather trousers to open them at the crotch. “Get me off, and if you bite, I’ll castrate you.”

He has to sit back on his heels to make the angle work, but he manages to tilt his face up and bury it between her thighs. Even if he hadn’t known she was Asgardian before, he’d know when he tastes her. She tastes of salt, and of home, and this he can do, even for an audience, even on his knees. He works her with his tongue, waiting to feel the first tremble in her thighs. When he makes her come, he’ll have won something he can use.

“This is very pretty,” the Grandmaster says, but it’s not in a happy tone. “But I’m not entirely sure it’s a punishment.”

"We’re getting to that part,” she says, and brandishes a rod with suggestive lights and buttons. Given how the disk still embedded in his skin works, he’s not surprised when the end of it crackles with electricity. They like electricity here.

She presses it to his nipple, and he yelps and rocks back hard on his heels. It’s not a paralyzing shock, but it’s intensely painful, especially somewhere sensitive.

Her other hand grips his hair, hard. “Did I say you could stop?”

“Admittedly no,” he says, and goes back to doing what he’s doing. He tells himself it’s only a very rough game that they're playing. He can master any game. Besides, she’s starting to thrust her hips, and she’s probably too distracted to—

She shocks him again, the other nipple this time, and leaves the rod presses there while he arches his back in agony. He has to draw a shuddering breath before he can go back to sucking her. It’s hard not to breathe in shallow pants, waiting for the next—

This time the shock is to the inside of his thigh. His thighs jerk involuntarily, his hard cock twitching against his belly. His teeth ache from gritting them when she finally stops. He sucks her again, but he can’t stop the tremble in his legs.

She thrusts her hips and groans, and he’s trying to decide whether she’s having a genuine climax or faking one when she shocks his other thigh. He’s still trying to catch his breath after the agony eases when she presses the rod to the tip of his erect penis.

“Please don’t,” he says, meaning it emphatically.

She turns it on. The pain is blinding and all-consuming, like he’s been thrust into a star. It takes what feels like an eternity but is probably a few breaths before the pain recedes to a brutal throbbing through his cock and an ache in his clenched belly. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s orgasmed, his cock starting to soften and the evidence that he’s spent himself visible on the floor.

He draws a shuddering breath, tries to speak, and finds his throat too tight. He tries again, lifting his chin. “I promise that I’ll be very good in future.”

“I don’t know,” the Grandmaster says. “I’m not sure he’s really learning.”

“We're not finished,” Valkyrie says. She strides around behind him and knees him in the back, forcing him to his hands and knees.

"You could have just asked—”

“Shut up,” she snarls in his ear. “Do you not get it? If I don't actually break you, he will kill you.”

“I won't break,” he says, deadly serious for the first time.

“Speak up, please, you’re mumbling,” the Grandmaster says. “The first rule of entertainment is that the audience has to be able to hear you.”

“What would make you cry, at least? He likes that.”

His eyes are already watering, but that’s just pain. Not the humiliation of being naked and on display for someone’s entertainment. Not the humiliation of understanding that the Valkyrie is trying to help him survive. It’s just a physical response.

“Please, don’t keep shocking me,” he says, loudly enough for the Grandmaster to hear.

She shocks him at once, in the pit of his stomach where it doubles him over and makes his eyes sting again with tears. It’s a physical reaction, he tells himself, the shakiness of his legs, the unsteadiness of his breathing, the nausea closing his throat. It’s just the electricity.

She draws the rod back and thrusts it between his buttocks. There’s a moment where it won’t fit, a different, more familiar pain, and then she thrusts it in.

“Please don’t do that,” he hears himself say, and then she turns it on.

The shock feels being scoured inside by lightning that sends a white-hot arc of painful arousal through his cock, which is hardening again before she turns it off. He can’t do more than brace himself and fight to draw shuddering breaths. He knows she’s going to do it again.

The second time is worse because he knows how bad it’s going to be. He grits his teeth, but he can’t stay silent. The third time, his legs are shaking so hard that he’s certain he’s going to collapse. She grabs him by his bound wrists to keep him on his hands and knees.

His whole body is throbbing, and he can’t help flinching, trying to get away from the rod that’s an inescapable pressure inside him. She shocks him a fourth time, and he feels himself orgasm again, less pleasure than just a different kind of ache as his balls spasm and cramp.

He’s gasping for breath. His face is wet. He feels her slide the rod out of him, incredible relief that leaves pain behind it.

Then he feels the cold tip of the rod touch his penis.

The agony of the shock seems to go on forever. He can’t breathe, no matter how he struggles to make himself draw a breath. There’s nothing but the pain.

When it stops, he still has to fight to breathe, and it’s the relief of the first breath that finally breaks him. His next breath is a ragged gasp as he doubles over his knees and sobs.

Loki is aware of Valkyrie resting her hand on his shoulder for the barest moment. Her hand is shaking. Then she looks up at the Grandmaster and shrugs. “What do you think?”

He's still wracked with angry sobs he can’t hold back, and no matter how much he wants to tell himself this is entirely a thing his body is doing, he knows it’s more. Some distant, older-feeling part of himself says the tears are like blood: they’ll get the poison out.

“I think he’s learned something,” the Grandmaster says, coming down the stairs to stand over Loki. “Have you learned something?”

Loki presses his cheek to the Grandmaster’s boot and thinks about becoming a snake to coil around his ankle. Someday he’ll sink his fangs deep.

“I won’t disappoint you again,” he forces out hoarsely, and thinks the Grandmaster believes him.


End file.
